


Not quite as planned

by akh



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:18:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5638768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akh/pseuds/akh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura and Bill meet on a Christmas Eve, but what was supposed to be a one night stand ends up producing some unexpected consequences. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story started as a response to a "Bill with antlers" prompt and then got a life of its own.

Laura sighs deeply as she hears the familiar creak of the opening door. It serves her right, she figures, for not locking up sooner, but frankly it hadn’t occurred to her that anyone would come in this late on a Chrstimas Eve.

“We’re closed!” she hollers tiredly from behind the counter, not even bothering to glance at the tardy customer as she continues to put away the glasses and pints.

“Just one drink?” A deep, gravelly voice speaks from the doorway. “I’ll help you clean up.”

Laura sighs again, this time because she can already feel her resolve begin to crack. Why not, really? It will cost her no real trouble to serve one more drink, and it’s not as if she actually has anywhere to go. The only thing waiting for her is an empty home.

Maybe she could even join this man for a drink - two lone souls finding brief comfort together before facing Christmas alone.

“Fine,” she begins to say, resigned, but as she looks up, the sight in front of her takes her by surprise. Before she can stop herself, a wayward giggle bursts out and Laura quickly brings her hand up to cover her mouth, feigning a sudden fit of coughing.

The man looks confused for a second, smiling awkwardly at her spluttering until realization seems to dawn on him.

“Oh, these,” he says, his cheeks flushing as he takes the comically large pair of antlers off his head. “I….had them for the kids,” he explains, placing the offending antlers on the counter.

Something in the man’s tone of voice makes Laura swallow her laughter. She wonders - if he has kids - what brings him to a bar alone on a Christmas Eve.

“I saw them today, but their mother has them for Christmas,” he says, as if guessing what she doesn’t ask. “We’re divorced,” he adds, taking a seat.

“I see,” Laura replies. She’s heard the same story many times before, of course. It is, after all, almost part of the job description. But usually it’s only a few words exchanged over the bustle of a full house while she’s tending to several people at once. It’s never personal.

Now it’s just her and this man, whose name she doesn’t even know, and she can’t hide behind the next customer. Without waiting for an order, she pours them a double Scotch each (she can usually tell what a person wants as soon as they walk in), and the man accepts it wordlessly, taking a long sip of the drink before either of them speaks.

“I like the antlers,” Laura says at last, swirling her own drink in her glass.

The man glances at the headpiece and then at Laura, a slow smile spreading on his rough face.

“I like your hat,” he replies, and suddenly Laura remembers she’s still wearing the obnoxious santa’s hat her boss had insisted everyone wear for Christmas. When she moves to take it off, the man reaches out to still her hand.

“I really do like it,” he says, this time with earnestness that makes Laura notice how remarkably blue his eyes are as they look up at her. She pushes the thought aside and files it quickly under “inappropriate thoughts about customers”. It’s a long list.

“Fine,” she replies, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I’ll wear the hat,” she drawls, taking a sip of her drink, “if you wear the antlers.”

This time, the man chuckles out loud. Laura raises her eyebrows in a challenge, and he shakes his head and then reaches for the antlers, slowly lifting them off the counter and placing them back on his head, his eyes never leaving hers.

The antlers look ridiculous on him and they both know it.

Trying to hold back another giggle, Laura tilts her head slightly to the right. “So are they reindeer or…” she pauses, covering her mouth briefly before almost managing a serious face again. “…or a moose, would you say?”

“I think I skipped that lesson at school,” the man replies with a low chuckle, his eyes still on Laura as he smiles at her, seemingly fascinated by her amusement.

They look at each other for a moment until something in the man’s eyes makes Laura avert hers.

“Thank you,” he says then, and suddenly the two words Laura hears dozens of times a day sound more intimate than anything anyone has said to her in a long time.

“For what?” she asks carefully, not quite sure how to take the simple expression.

“I didn’t think I’d have much to smile about tonight,” he replies, downing the rest of his drink. He hesitates for a moment, toying with the empty glass in his hands. Finally he looks up again, and Laura is glad he’s wearing the antlers, making it impossible to take him entirely seriously. Otherwise, her stomach might have flipped under the intensity of his gaze.

“Can I know your name?” he asks at last.

She dithers only for a moment. “Laura,” she replies. “Just Laura.”

He nods, taking a moment to digest the name in silence.

“Bill,” he says then, even though she hasn’t asked. “I’m Bill.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Laura sees Bill again, some three months later, she doesn’t recognize him at first, but when he catches her eye and orders a double Scotch, she pauses, takes another look, and suddenly there's no doubt in her mind. She remembers a cold winter night - snow beginning to fall as they stagger out of the bar, both a little worse for wear after too many drinks.

She remembers waking up in the middle of the night with his arm around her, and she remembers waking up again in the morning to an empty bed, relieved to find him gone without having to tell him to leave. She’d always found one night stands to be the most convenient when there was no talk in the morning. Or at least she had thought so until it had transpired that knowing his full name would have been quite useful.

Now, in the middle of a very busy happy hour, Laura realizes the timing could hardly be worse for the conversation they need to have. What she has to tell him is not exactly something that can yelled over the bustle of a busy counter.

Instead, she writes two words down on a napkin and hands the cloth over to Bill, together with the drink he’s ordered, and then quickly moves on to the next customer before she can see his reaction.

Half-expecting him to bolt, Laura tries to keep Bill in her line of vision throughout the evening as she goes through order after order, but he remains seated, staring down at the napkin and, Laura thinks, occasionally at her - but she does her best to avoid catching his eye.

By the time the bar closes, she knows the talk is unavoidable. Even as the last set of customers makes their way out, noisy and cheerful, he remains in his seat, watching Laura as she follows the group to the door and then locks it behind them.

When they’re finally alone, a silece falls between them and Laura allows herself to look at Bill properly for the first time since handing him the napkin.

“Should you be standing?” Bill is the first to break the silence, his tone neutral - difficult to read.

“I’m fine,” Laura replies, but the truth is her feet and her back are killing her. It’s not unusual after a long day behind the counter, but now…She walks over to where Bill is sitting and takes a seat a couple of stools down, leaving some space between them.

She glances at the napkin on the counter. The writing is a little smudged by now, probably from having been turned over in Bill’s hands for the better part of three hours, but the words “I’m pregnant” are still legible enough.

When they speak up again, it’s both at once:

“I didn’t know how to contact you…” - “Is it mine?”

Laura pauses. It’s a legit question, considering they barely know each other, but she can’t help but feel a flash of irritation nonetheless. Why would she be advertising her pregnancy to him if the baby was somebody else’s?

“I know our last encounter might lead you to think otherwise,” she says coolly, “but I don’t usually take home the last customer of the night for an extra spin. It was a one time offer.”

He looks down, seemingly regretting the question. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he says apologetically. “I just…” he pauses, picking up the napkin again and toying with it absently, “It’s just a bit of a shock.”

“You and me both,” Laura sighs, her irritation quickly dissipating. “I was on the pill,” she adds, shaking her head. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Bill looks at her for a moment and then shrugs. “I suppose sometimes it just happens,” he replies, and Laura is relieved to find him taking the news rather philosophically.

“You will keep it, right? Or you would already have…” He trails off, nodding towards her still nearly flat stomach.

Laura nods. She had briefly thought of getting rid of it. Bill would never have needed to know, considering she didn’t even know how to find him, but she had banished the thought almost immediately. Bill might never have known, but she would have.

“I don’t expect anything from you,” she says quickly. “I made the choice to keep this child, knowing I might never see you again. Now that I did see you, I just thought it fair to let you know.”

“Thank you,” Bill replies, his face twisting into something between a smile and a grimace. “I’m glad,” he adds, but Laura isn’t sure whether he means the pregnancy itself, or just the fact that she’s told him.

“You should go,” she tells him. It’s too soon to make any decisions now. “We’re closed,” she adds, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips as she recalls the first time he walked in, antlers and all.

Bill gets up, seemingly a little reluctant.

“Will I find you here?” he asks, picking up the napkin and shoving it into his pocket.

Laura pauses for a beat and then nods. “Yes,” she replies simply. “I’ll be here on most days.”

Bill nods and starts walking away. At the door, he pauses and turns back. Laura watches as he strides across the bar, picks up a new napkin and hastily writes something down before handing it to Laura.

“So you know how to find me,” he says simply, starting towards the door again. “In case you need anything.”

Laura watches him leave and then looks down at the napkin.

“William Adama,” she mouths to herself, reading the information he has written down. Then, patting her stomach softly, she says a little louder: “You hear that? Your father is called William Adama.”


	3. Chapter 3

It only takes Bill a week to return. This time, instead of entering the bar, he waits for Laura outside after the closing hour.

"I figured we could stop meeting at the bar," he tells her, "but I didn't want to just show up at your doorstep either, without invitation," he adds, looking a little unsure of himself.

Laura had not thought of it, but of course Bill would know where she lives. The fact that she invited him in that one time is the reason they're here now.

"I should give you my number," she says out loud. "I mean, if we are going to keep meeting?" She glances at Bill, questioning, and he meets her eyes without hesitation.

"I would like that," he replies.

"Okay," Laura nods. She's not sure how conversations in these situations are usually supposed to go. Should she thank him for not running away? "Uh...As you recall, my apartment's just a few blocks down so..." She gestures vaguely towards the intersection that crosses her street and they both start walking slowly in that direction.

"Laura...", Bill starts again after they've proceeded some distance in silence. "I know there's a lot we still need to figure out about how this is going to work, but I'd like to be part of this baby's life. I may not be the best father in the world but..."

"Well, at least you have experience," Laura cuts in nervously and then lets out a sigh. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"So you don't mind?" Bill asks hopefully, and Laura glances at him, realizing she should probably have articulated more clearly that she's actually relieved he wants to be involved.

"Oh, no, I'm glad," she assures him quickly, managing a tentative smile. "I would have done it alone, like I said, but...I'm glad if I don't have to. Before I saw you again last week, I was afraid I wouldn't even be able to tell this kid who their father was, if they ever asked."

Bill looks down at his feet, instantly remorseful. "I'm sorry," he says, pausing as he places a hand on Laura's arm. "I shouldn't have just left like that, without even leaving you a name, or a number to call. It was irresponsible. I just..." he stalls, and when Laura ventures to meet his eyes, she wonders briefly if they are always as expressive. He smiles apologetically when he continues: "I've never really had a one night stand before, and I wasn't sure what the protocol was. I didn't think..."

"It's okay," Laura interrupts him, knowing she has just as much reason to feel guilty. "I obviously wasn't thinking much either, so that makes two of us." She doesn't tell him she had been relieved to find him gone that morning. She'd only begun to regret not knowing more about him once she'd realized she had missed her period, a few weeks later.

*

They arrive at Laura's apartment within minutes. As she opens the door and gestures for Bill to enter, she recalls in a flash the night three months earlier when they had stumbled against the door before she ever had the chance to open it, their lips crashing hungrily against each other in a kiss that seemed to go on forever. To this day, she's not entirely sure how they'd ever made it inside, but they certainly had, probably managing to wake up several of her neighbors in the process.

There's none of that urgency now as Bill gingerly steps over the threshold and Laura follows a few steps behind, pulling the door closed once they're both inside.

"Can I get you anything?" she asks, heading towards the kitchen. "I don't have anything alcoholic, but..."

"No thanks," Bill replies politely, having followed Laura into the kitchen. "It's late and I won't to keep you. You must have had a long day."

Laura shrugs, pours herself a glass of water and then leads them both to her small living room, releasing a sigh as she finally sits down on the couch. After a day on her feet, it's a bliss she's long been waiting for. She can only imagine how much harder it's all going to get once she really starts growing bigger.

"What was it like for you, the first time?" she asks Bill when he, after a moment's consideration, takes a seat next to her on the couch. "You said you had kids, right?"

"I have two sons, yes," Bill confirms. "Lee and Zak, 7 and 4."

"So young," Laura muses, pressing the cold glass of water against her cheek thoughtfully. She wonders what he is like with kids and then remembers she doesn't really even know what he's like with adults. At least they still have six months.

"I was married to their mother," Bill explains, his voice pulling Laura out of her thoughts. "Not when she got pregnant with Lee - we had only been together for a couple of months before that - but we married soon after."

"I see," Laura replies, wondering if he's now thinking he ought to marry her as well, given the similar situation. She decides to disabuse him of the notion, just in case.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that with me," she says flatly. "We're definitely not getting married."

"No, no, of course not," Bill hastens to say, and Laura is relieved to see he doesn't appear offended by her somewhat curt tone.

"I was just going to say," he continues, "It was a mistake to marry Carolanne so soon, when we still barely knew each other. You and I..." he turns to look at Laura, tilting his head slightly. "We know each other even less."

Actually, Laura thinks to herself, they don't know each other at all.


	4. Chapter 4

The spring has come early and it's unseasonably warm when they meet a few days later in a cafe near Laura's apartment, on her day off. She risks an éclair with her herbal tea while Bill settles on a simple coffee, no milk.

"I know it's cliché," she shrugs as she tucks into her éclair, "but I _am_ eating for two."

Bill smiles, and Laura decides she rather likes his smile, especially when it reaches his eyes.

"I'd be more worried if you weren't eating," he admits. "Carolanne used to..." he pauses, looking down at his coffee and then back at Laura, "or maybe you'd rather not hear about my ex-wife."

"No, no, I'm interested," Laura replies quickly. "I don't have any close friends who have gone through a pregnancy so I don't really know what to expect." For a second, she allows the thought of her sister to enter her mind, but then she steadfastly pushes it away. "Besides," she adds with forced cheerfulness as she focuses on Bill again. "It's not as if we are a couple, so there's no embargo on talking about exes. Spill it."

Bill chuckles, either because he hasn't noticed her momentary pause and the following fake smile, or because he's pretending he hasn't, but either way Laura appreciates it.

"Well, we were both clueless kids when Carolanne first got pregnant," he begins. "She wasn't really happy about it, I think, now that I look back, even though I thought we were happy at the time." Bill pauses, and Laura watches with interest as he stirs his coffee, seemingly lost in quiet reflection. When he looks at Laura again, she thinks she can see something wistful in his eyes before he chuckles again. "She hated putting on weight and tried to eat less than she should have, but then the cravings would come at night and I'd find myself driving to a 24 hour drive-in to get her the biggest, greasiest burger I could find, with the side of fries."

Laura smiles, trying to picture Bill with a coat over his pyjamas, grumbling as he'd have to get out in the middle of the night to buy food.

"I get those too," she admits, taking another bite of the éclair, "the cravings, I mean, but they're tempered quite considerably by my unwillingness to leave the comfort of my home at night, especially after a long day at the bar."

Laura had attempted to speak lightly, but she notices Bill's expression grow concerned.

"Are you sure that's good for you?" he asks cautiously. "Working at the bar, I mean?"

"I'm sure I need to work," she deadpans. "New jobs aren't exactly easy to come by, especially when you're pregnant."

"Of course," Bill concedes, taking the subject no further. Laura can tell he's not entirely happy with her response, but they don't know each other well enough yet to start pushing the boundaries that exist between them.

"I don't think you've ever told me what you do for a living," she attempts to move the conversation forward.

Bill, who is in the middle of taking a sip of his coffee, sets down his cup and looks at Laura.

"Military," he replies simply. "Currently just pushing papers, though," he adds, "Not in active duty. There's only so much for a fighter pilot to do during peace."

"So you're not about to disappear on me?" Laura asks, raising an eyebrow.

Bill shakes his head. "No," he assures her, reaching for her hand across the table. "I'm right here."

**

When they leave the cafe, Bill walks Laura back to her apartment.

"I wonder..." she starts as they approach her door, knowing she can't push the question back any longer.

Bill pauses, placing a hand on Laura's arm to still her as well.

"What is it?" he asks, his voice edged with concern.

"Oh, nothing bad," Laura replies quickly. "It's just that I have a sonogprahy appointment in two days and...well, I just thought I should tell you, in case you want to come," she explains haltingly. "I mean, I don't _expect_ you to, and you might have something else planned anyway since it's such a short notice, but I just wanted you to know."

Before Bill can reply she adds hastily: "I can send you a picture anyway, so it's not like...."

"I'd love to come," Bill interrupts her, a smile spreading across his face.

Laura lets out a relieved breath. The last thing she wants is for Bill to think she's pushing him to be more involved than he wants to be.

"Okay, well, good," she replies a little awardkly. "It's in the afternoon if that works for you."

"I'll make it work," Bill assures her. "And Laura," he adds as they start walking again, "I'd like to be at as many appointments as you'll have me. Never hesitate to ask. Even if there's ever a time I can't make it for some reason, it's never because I don't want to be there."

"Thank you," Laura replies, not sure what else to say. There had been a time, when she first found out she was pregnant, that she had thought her baby might never even get to meet their father. When she had met Bill again and told him about her pregnancy, she had thought that perhaps the child would at least get to see him occasionally - maybe receive birthday and Christmas cards if Bill remembered. But she had never, even after Bill had told her he wanted to be involved, have guessed how truly he meant it; not just after the birth but already during the pregnancy.

She could not have expected much more effort from him if he had actually been her boyfriend. In fact, most of the ones she'd had until now probably would have bolted at the first signs of impending fatherhood. Bill, she was starting to believe, was made of different stuff. Perhaps it was the military side of him that had instilled a sense of duty in him, but there was something else, too - something more tender about him that made her believe he was not only invovled because he felt he had to but because he wanted to.

"I do have a tentative schedule," Laura suddenly remembers as they reach her building and Bill is preparing to take his leave, "for all my upcoming appointments, I mean."

His face lights up. "Could I see it? I could try to keep my own schedule free around those dates."

Laura smiles back, reaching for his hand as she opens the door. "I'll show you," she says, and they enter the building together.


	5. Chapter 5

Laura barely notices when Bill grabs her hand in the waiting room. It feels too natural to require a reaction and so, by the time she realizes his thumb is drawing slow, calming circles on the back of her hand, she simply takes in a deep breath and lets her whole body relax.

She has never had a sonogram before and, now that she's about to, it's only starting to hit her that in just a few moments she will see her baby for the first time. It's a strange feeling, mixed with anxiety, worry, excitement and, something she has not allowed herself to experience since the death of her family: love. It's a feeling she had almost hoped never to feel again, and it's still almost as small as the life she's carrying, but she can feel them both growing, day by day.

As these thoughts flow through her mind, Laura's free hand goes automatically to rest on the small, still almost unnoticeable bump concealed underneath a loose shirt and she smiles as she feels the slight rise of her previously flat stomach. She had never had any aspirations of becoming a mother. She would have been perfectly happy to just be an aunt to as many children as her sisters would eventually have. The irony of how she will now never be an aunt, but is about to become a mother, is not lost on her. It's the bitter and still raw memory of loss that tampers the budding joy she is beginning to feel over this unexpected pregnancy.

"You're miles away." Bill's voice brings Laura back to the present.

"Oh, I was just...reminiscing," she replies. Bill's thumb has paused it's circling motion, but their hands remain joined.

"Pleasant?" he asks.

"Something like it," Laura evades. She's nowhere near ready to talk to Bill about her family or her life before. Maybe she never will be. Maybe they'll never be that close.

He doesn't pry further.

**

Bill doesn't let go of Laura's hand even when they are called in and somehow Laura finds it comforting. They've only slept together the one time and met each other just a few more. They're still barely more than strangers but, on the outside, as he gently escorts her into the examination room, they might actually look like any loving couple going in to see for the first time the baby they've long been trying to conceive.

If the doctor, who until now has only met Laura, is surprised to find her accompanied by a man, he doesn't show it. Instead, he only raises his eyebrows slightly and extends his hand, first to Laura and then Bill.

"You must be..." he begins, and Bill is quick to fill in the rest.

"The father," he says, shaking the older man's hand firmly. "William Adama."

With the introductions and common pleasantries soon exchanged, Laura settles down on the examination table and watches as Bill takes a seat by her side, giving her a reassuring smile while the doctor prepares his instruments.

"Nervous?" he mouths, his hand somehow finding hers again.

Laura doesn't reply but gives his hand a slight squeeze, which he returns by clasping her hand between both of his. Suddenly, she's almost paralyzed with a sensation she can't quite name. She knows she's nervous, certainly, but there are many other unnamed feelings as well, all of them rushing through her at once. None of this is where she expected her life to be heading, if she's recently had any expectations at all.

Focusing on the warmth of Bill's eyes, Laura only half listens as the doctor explains what he's about to do.

The gel, when he applies it, feels cool against her stomach, bringing Laura's attention at last from Bill to the man operating the sonography equipment, just in time to see as he applies pressure to her stomach with the wand.

"Just relax, Ms. Roslin," he speaks in a calm voice as he moves the wand over Laura's stomach. 

The picture on the monitor looks nothing more than a blur to her at first, but then suddenly the doctor pauses the wand and something starts to take shape before her eyes, something that looks like...

"That's our baby," Bill breathes, giving voice to Laura's thoughts, even though the pronoun in her mind, she realizes a little guiltily, had been 'my' rather than 'our'.

In such a short moment, she had almost forgotten Bill was there.

"Our baby," she whispers, trying it on for measure.

Vaguely, she's aware of Bill's fingers curling a little more tightly around her hand at her words, his mouth quietly echoing them: "Our baby."

On the screen, Laura's eyes find the tiny, flapping movement that is her baby's solid heartbeat.

**

They don't talk much as Bill drives her back home after the appointment. It's not an awkward silence as such, but there doesn't seem to be much to say that would be worth filling the silence. To follow up what they have just experienced with insipid talk of the weather or the price of gas simply seems pointless, and any talk of the future while they still barely know each other could border on dangerous.

Instead, as if by a mutual decision, they drive on in silence.

Bill's eyes are on the road while Laura turns the sonogram over in her hands, trying to make out the outline of their baby again, memorizing every shape, every curve of the developing fetus that, according to the doctor, looks perfectly healthy and normal.

"Thank you," she says at last, finally putting the picture away. Bill's eyes are drawn to her for a moment before they return to the road.

"For coming with me," she adds, resisting the urge to place a hand on his arm.

Bill's gaze darts to her again, and this time their eyes meet. He smiles briefly at Laura before his focus returns to the road.

"Thanks for letting me," he replies simply.

He doesn't turn to look at her again, but somehow his right hand finds its way to Laura's knee, giving it a light squeeze before returning to hold the steering wheel, and she finds that she doesn't really mind.

They don't speak again until the car pulls up before Laura's front door. There they part ways as Laura heads inside and Bill drives off to do in the hours he's missed at work.


	6. Chapter 6

The bar is stinkier and darker than the one Laura works at, but Bill finds his way around it with ease, spotting the familiar bald head at a table in one of the murkiest corners. Saul is his oldest friend, and the first person he intends to tell. 

Picking up two whiskeys from the barista, Bill walks with them to the corner table and sits down.

"Haven't seen you in a while," his friend gnarls as he takes the offered drink - clearly not his first of the day.

"Been busy," Bill replies without getting into the details. Instead of taking a sip of his own drink, he watches his friend down his in one big gulp. "How's Ellen?"

"Haven't seen her in a while either," Saul replies darkly, eyeing Bill's untouched drink with interest.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Bill fidgets with his hands for a moment, not sure how to broach the subject he has been avoiding, and then finally pushes his drink to Saul before reaching into his pocket to pull out the picture his been carrying there for a few days.

He slams it on the table at the same moment Saul reaches for the drink, catching his friend off guard.

Instead of bringing the glass to his lips, Saul squints at the picture and then looks a Bill, his eyes wide.

"Bill?" he asks, his voice suddenly sounding a lot more sober than it had only a moment before. He looks at the picture again and then back at Bill. "You and Carolanne...?" he then asks, and Bill shakes his head quickly.

"No, no," he says, pulling the picture of the sonogram away before Saul can slosh any alcohol on it. He places it gently back into his breast pocket before he adds: "You don't know her."

"H-how long?" Saul asks. "Does Carolanne know? The boys?"

Bill shakes his head again. It's not exactly something that comes up easily in a conversation with an ex when you go to pick up your children for the weekend, but he knows he'll have to tell her eventually - preferably soon, because he would like Zak and Lee to meet Laura and get to know her well enough before their new brother or sister is born.

Of course, he should also tell Laura that he plans to introduce her to his boys. So far he doesn't know if she even wishes to meet them. Nor does he know if she has any desire to spend any excess time with him at all.

Running a hand over his face, Bill groans and leans back in his chair.

"It happened last Christmas," he says at last, as Saul still waits for him to elaborate. "We had a one night stand and...when I ran into her again a couple of months later I found out she was pregnant."

Saul squints at Bill, his eyebrows first knitting together and then rising surprisingly close to what had once been his hairline as it dawns on him that his friend has not found himself a new woman - that he has only managed to knock up one. Bill knows what he's going to ask before the words leave his mouth and he feels a flash of annoyance, even anger, at what he knows Saul is about to insinuate - conveniently forgetting it's the same question he once asked Laura himself.

"Are you sure it's yours?"

Bill glares at his friend, reaching for the drink Saul seems to have forgotten about and reclaiming it as his own.

"Of course I'm sure," he snaps, a little surprised at the strength of his own reaction. He doesn't want to ask himself whether it is because of Laura or the unborn child he already feels a connection to.

"Did you have a test?" Saul asks, undeterred.

Bill takes a big gulp of his drink and then shakes his head. "No," he says gruffly. "And I'm not going to. It's not like she's asking anything of me."

Saul looks at him for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Bill...this woman," he begins. "You're not sweet on her, are you?"

It's a question Bill had hoped Saul would save for another day. He takes another gulp of his drink.

"I hardly know her," he evades.

"What does she look like?"

Bill closes his eyes. He can easily picture the luxurious waves of red hair, the green eyes, the enigmatic smile sometimes bordering on mischievous.

"Not your type," he replies simply, swirling what remains of his drink in the glass, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid rather than at his friend.

"I'm not asking about _my_ type," Saul reminds him.

Bill sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, she's..." he tries to explain but words fail him. _Beautiful?_ She is, certainly, but the word tastes too mundane to adequately describe her. "She's..."

_'Special'_ is another word swirling on his tongue, but Bill swallows it down, knowing it would only egg his friend on. He doesn't know how to finish the sentence.

The trouble is, he knows his silence already speaks for itself.

"If she's anything like Carolanne..." Saul begins.

"She's not," Bill cuts in quickly, emptying the rest of his drink.

She most certainly is not.

***

Another week passes before he sees Laura again. She's covering extra shifts to be able to take more time off when the baby is born, she tells him. It's practical, of course, but Bill hates the idea of her working so hard even as her stomach is slowly starting to grow, adding more pressure on those feet she has to stand on all night. She hasn't mentioned morning sickness, but he guesses it could still be a factor too, at least for a little while longer.

On a Monday, after a weekend he has spent with his boys while she has clocked double hours at the bar, he meets her again at the cafe near her apartment. Despite admitting to exhaustion and apologizing for "looking like hell," as she puts it, she looks beautiful as she basks in the midday sun that shines on her copper hair through the french windows.

"How are the boys?" she asks as she brings her cup of herbal tea up to her lips, and Bill is gratified that she's expressing an interest. "Lee and Zak, right?"

"They're good kids," Bill replies, beaming at the mere mention of his sons. Then he pauses, wondering if this is a good moment to introduce the subject of the three of them possibly meeting each other. Whether it is or not, he decides to plough on. He has to know if Zak and Lee will be welcomed as brothers to this child that's on the way. He's not sure how any of this can work out if they're not.

"I told them that they're going to have a little brother or sister," he tells Laura, watching carefully for her reaction. She raises her eyebrows slightly at the information and then takes another sip of her tea, looking thoughtful.

"How did they take it?" she asks at last, wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin as she lowers her cup. 

Bill judges it best not to go into detail about how he had to explain to them that the baby would have a different Mommy, and how the little one would be living with the Different Mommy instead of with Daddy or Mommy. It's a conversation he'll gladly defer to a later date with Laura. Instead, he cuts straight to the end result that he eventually reached with the boys:

"They were excited," he replies, venturing a slight smile. "I think they're hoping for a little brother but..." He cuts off, realizing they haven't really talked about the baby's gender yet. He doesn't know if Laura might be hoping for one more than the other.

To his relief and delight, however, she just lets out a chuckle.

"I can imagine they would," she replies. "If you had girls of the same age, they'd want a little sister."

Bill thinks he can see something of a shadow pass Laura's features at her last words, but it's gone before he even blinks and she's smiling again as she looks down at her cup.

"It's been a while since I've hung out with kids," she says after a short pause.

The words hang in the air for a moment and Bill decides to seize them.

"Would you like to meet Zak and Lee?" he asks hopefully. "I only have them every other weekend, but..."

Laura looks up at him. Bill registers a fraction of hesitation in her eyes as if she's running through a list of options in her mind, but then she smiles again, reassuring, and reaches for his hand over the table.

"I'd love to," she replies, giving his hand a light squeeze before pulling away again.

Encouraged, Bill, in turn, reaches for her hand and pulls it back to himself, closing it between both of his.

"I can't wait for you to meet them," he says from all his heart, hoping she can see how much this means to him.

He is pleased to see Laura's smile in return.

"I look forward to it," she assures him.


End file.
